Rabbi Hillel HaLevi of Paritch was born in the town of Chomsk in 5555 (1795) to his father Rabbi Meir, a follower of the Tchernobyl chasidic dynasty. Even in his childhood, he was well-versed in the Talmud and legal decisors, studied kabbalistic texts, and prayed with the kavanot (mystical intentions) of the AriZal. Before his bar mitzvah, he married. When the Tanya came into his hands, he became a Chabad chasid, but despite his efforts, he did not merit to see the Alter Rebbe. In 5578 (1818), he was sent by the Mitteler Rebbe “to gather material support and to sow spirituality” in the agricultural settlements established by the Rebbe in the Kherson region. Thus, Rabbi Hillel became the spiritual mentor of tens of thousands of Jews. He dedicated his life to spreading Torah and Chasidut and devoted himself to providing kosher food for Jewish soldiers in the Czar’s army. In 5600 (1840), he was appointed to serve as the rabbi of the town of Paritch in White Russia, and later he served as the rabbi of nearby Bobroysk.
Rabbi Hillel recorded everything he heard from his teachers and added explanations, and he also composed deep Chasidic melodies. His teachings were compiled in the series of volumes titled Pelach HaRimon, in the book Imrei Noam, and others. He passed away in the town of Kherson on the 11th of Av, “Shabbat Nachamu,” 5624 (1864), and was laid to rest there.
Once, the Tzemach Tzedek delivered a chasidic discourse, and as was customary among the chasidim, Rabbi Hillel of Paritch and the sons of the Tzemach Tzedek sat together afterwards to review the discourse. A disagreement arose between them regarding the interpretation of a particular point. The sons interpreted it one way, while Rabbi Hillel insisted that the interpretation was different. “Let us go to our father and ask what he meant,” the sons suggested. They went to their father, presented their arguments, and the Rebbe agreed with their interpretation. However, when they conveyed this to Rabbi Hillel, he firmly stood his ground and said, “That’s all well and good, but it does not change my mind at all. When the Rebbe teaches, it is the Shechinah (God’s Divine Presence) speaking through his throat, but once he finishes the discourse, his personal opinion on the interpretation of the discourse is not necessarily decisive.”
Rabbi Hillel’s ability to stand by his interpretation against the Rebbe, even when it was the Rebbe’s own words of Torah, testifies to his powerful inner conviction. In the language of Kabbalah and Chasidut, this is the attribute of da’at (knowledge) within his soul. One of the expressions of da’at is similar to what is called “intuition,” in Torah and in general. For tzaddikim, da’at can reach the level of ruach hakodesh (Divine inspiration) itself—as Rashi interprets the quality of da’at in Bezalel ben Uri as “ruach hakodesh.” Da’at can also be an internal feeling not present in every person. Here, da’at is the ability to form an opinion about the Rebbe’s words of Torah—even one that contradicts the Rebbe’s own interpretation.
A famous story describes a similar incident that occurred with the holy Ba’al Shem Tov:
Once, during an ascent of the soul, the Arizal and the Ba’al Shem Tov were debating the interpretation of a passage in the Zohar. They decided to go to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai (Rashbi) and ask him the meaning. Rashbi said that the interpretation was like the Arizal’s. However, the Ba’al Shem Tov did not concede and suggested that they go to the Shechinah, to God Himself, to hear the correct interpretation. The Shechinah affirmed the Ba’al Shem Tov’s interpretation.
On the one hand, in this story, the Ba’al Shem Tov is revealed as one who can speak directly with the Shechinah. The wondrous level of the Ba’al Shem Tov is thus higher than that of Rabbi Hillel. What could be higher than speaking with the Shechinah itself and gaining its affirmation? However, in a certain sense, it is actually in the first story that da’at is stronger. A tzaddik like Rabbi Hillel, who cannot reach the lofty heights of the Ba’al Shem Tov, demonstrates an even more astounding firmness in his adherence to the inner sense guiding him.
In another story, a different aspect of that inner sense is revealed: Rabbi Hillel’s ability to discern the essence of similar abilities in other tzaddikim.
Once, at a chasidic gathering where there were some Chernobyl chasidim who shared stories about their Rebbe, Rabbi Mordechai, emphasizing how great he was and how he was privy to ruach hakodesh. Among the stories, they mentioned that Rabbi Mordechai would not meet with the women who sought his blessing directly, but instead received them from behind a curtain, taking their requests for a blessing without seeing them. Once, mitnagdim (opponents of Chasidut) who wanted to mock him brought a non-Jewish woman and placed her behind the curtain. Rebbe Mordechai’s custom was to place his hands behind the curtain in blessing, but the moment he began to do so, he recoiled and said, “May those who make them be like them!” Indeed, the individuals who had sent her left the Jewish fold.
“This is not ruach hakodesh; it is purity of thought,” Rabbi Hillel responded to the story.
As mentioned, ruach hakodesh is a high level of da’at. Rabbi Hillel, being a man of great da’at, can discern that what appears to ordinary people as ruach hakodesh is actually a lower level, more accessible to everyone. A person who purifies his thoughts from any trace of impurity and foreign thoughts can sense the thoughts of others or the quality of the soul standing behind the curtain.
What, then, is true ruach hakodesh? As a mere conjecture, we suggest that if Rabbi Mordechai had known what was happening before approaching the curtain, it would have indicated ruach hakodesh. When proximity to the person is required to feel their presence, it is a faculty of pure thought, not ruach hakodesh. Rabbi Hillel made an even sharper statement regarding the miracles of the tzaddik Rabbi Yisrael Dov of Vildenik whom the Tzemach Tzedek himself encouraged to act as a miracle worker:
Once, chasidim were sitting and telling stories. They recounted the story of an agunah (a woman unable to remarry because her husband is missing or refuses to give her a divorce) who went to all the tzaddikim of the generation to find her husband who had run away from her. None of them could help her, until she came to Rabbi Yisrael Dov of Vildenik. As soon as she asked, he told her: “Go to such-and-such a city, enter the house of the city’s butcher, and stay there for a certain amount of time until your husband appears.” The woman did as he said, and indeed, during her stay there, her husband suddenly arrived in disguise. However, the woman recognized him, and they pressured him until he admitted who he was and gave her a divorce.
Afterward, they told another story: There was a father whose son had completely lost his sanity and went mad. The father took him to all the doctors and all the tzaddikim, seeking a cure, but no one could help. However, when they came to Rebbe Yisrael Dov, he told them to do something simple, and immediately the son was healed and returned to health and sanity.
Rabbi Hillel was sitting there with everyone, listening. Seemingly, the conclusion from these stories is obvious: if there is a tzaddik who performs such miracles when all others cannot, perhaps it is best to follow only him? But Rabbi Hillel responded and said: “Let women and the insane go to Vildenik, and let men and chasidim go to Lubavitch...”
The aspect of da’at present here is the distinction between the people of the world, who seek a tzaddik for practical matters, and those of da’at—who seek a tzaddik in order to find a path of Divine service. Each has an address appropriate for them, and by the grace of God, there are tzaddikim of all kinds. However, it is important to pay attention to what brings each person to follow the tzaddik under whose shadow he dwells.
